At the Pawn Shop

Below is the poem entitled At the Pawn Shop which was written by poet
Heather
Ober. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

At the Pawn Shop

Clouds roll in to bruise the sky as rain falls from the sun's black eye.
My clothes are sodden within seconds - I dive for the first door that beckons.
The pawn shop smells of age and dust, a heady mix of past and must.
Then, from the door, my tired eyes spy a sight that makes my mouth go dry.
I drip across the wooden floor until I reach the open drawer
sealed with glass to keep away the specks of dirt that might decay
the pair of earrings on display in polished gold with subtle spray
of opalescent stones that dot a tiny pair of celtic knots.
My mind drifts to faint memories of Nana's fine accessories.
My stunned heart gives a painful squeeze; I know she owned a pair like these.
Through sudden tears, my vision blurs - I reach into my open purse
for bills to pay the waiting clerk, who stands nearby on high alert.
I clutch the box with shaking hands; my eyes drop tears that fall to fan
across my cheeks in joyful stains - and once outside, I thank the rain.
For Susan's "at the pawn shop" contest

aha, you got rhyming couplets down to her line limit, way to go because this is an awesome story you have told. I just feel such magic in your poetry. So glad I decided tonight to catch up on some of your posts I had not yet seen this week. If this were my contest, I'd have this one in the top three.

You had me with only the threat of rain... This is the epitome of all that poetry is about. I felt every emotion and was breathless at the end. And thanking the rain was the cherry on top of this delicious read. You nailed it, girl. THIS IS A WINNER!!!.... Jake